Search the Community

SMS Hindenburg lying at anchor in Schillig Roads – circa late 1917. IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: CUXHAVEN By: Dreadnought & AP Chapter 41: THE THIRD SISTER Just two weeks after SMS Lutzow’s keel was laid, the first meeting to discuss “Grosse Kreuzer – 1913” was held on 31 May 1912. Chief Architect Burkner presented several proposals for improvements to the Derfflinger Class Panzerkreuzer. It was, of course, standard practice for German battlecruisers to be laid down a year apart, even when they were sister-ships of the same class – and it was not uncommon for succeeding sister-ships to be “improved” versions. Burkner placed six proposals before the committee, the most important of which involved alterations to the ship’s main gun turrets. The usual two-stage hoist, carrying powder and shells to the gunhouse, would be replaced with two hoists. A two-stage hoist would continue to carry powder -- but a second, direct hoist, would carry shells to the gunhouse without interruption. This would speed delivery of the projectiles, while reducing the number of times the powder hoist would have to be opened, thereby reducing powder handling hazards. Burkner also wanted to add the built-in 25-foot rangefinders planned for the Bayern Class battleship turrets. Admiral Gerdes was in favor of this change, while suggesting the diesel dynamo rooms (positioned below the munitions chambers) be relocated as a further safety measure. It was estimated the changes would add about 120 tons to the designed displacement. The secondary battery of 5.9-inch guns was to be increased from 14 to 18, while reducing the 3.4-inch guns to eight. Since the small guns were primarily for anti-aircraft purposes, it was thought advisable to increase the ammunition allowance to 350 rounds per gun. This was estimated at another 120 tons added weight. It was Burkner’s intention to equip the cruiser with the new “Type H” 24-inch torpedo. This model could make 30 knots with a range increase from 8,000 to 12,000 yards. The larger caliber torpedo reloads would add 65 tons. At the same time, Burkner wanted to remove the single stern torpedo tube and replace it with an aft torpedo flat deploying two tubes -- one on either beam -- laterally angled at 10-20 degrees. This change was, however, heavily dependent on space and would require the stern to be lengthened by 3 meters -- adding some 300 tons to displacement. Burkner also wanted to increase the battlecruiser’s speed by a half a knot, but withdrew the suggestion. Other department heads pointed out the required machinery, and additional citadel armor to protect it, would add considerable weight and require a major redesign. Finally, Burkner’s last suggestion was to reinforce the torpedo bulkheads to a 2-inch thickness. After some discussion, the State Secretary, Grossadmiral von Tirpitz, ruled out anything requiring a time-consuming redesign – so the secondary battery was kept at 14 guns and the diesel dynamo room would remain where it was. He approved reducing the 3.4-inch guns to eight, but kept the ammunition allowance at 250 rounds per gun. The changes to the main battery gunhouses and the new torpedoes were approved – but not the complicated aft torpedo flat. At the close of the meeting, Tirpitz requested weight and cost figures for the same Grosse Kreuzer, only with four double turrets mounting 14-inch guns. (It is worth noting Tirpitz persisted in arming the battlecruisers with guns one caliber smaller than the 15-inch-gunned Bayern Class battleships.) The Construction Department replied on 9 September 1912 with two studies: one armed with 14-inch guns, and another one with 15-inch guns. Tirpitz, unwilling to take on the higher cost, flatly ruled out the 15-inch option. And -- equally unwilling to accept any increase in size or displacement, the 14-inch gun caliber could only be accommodated by weight reductions in other areas. In the end, the new design studies were unable to completely compensate for weight increases, and the cost was still 33.3 million Marks – 1.8 million more than the estimated 31.5 million Marks spent on Lutzow. “Grosse Kreuzern 1913 – Erstaz Hertha” profile plan. This working sketch of SMS Lutzow was used as a starting basis for the new cruiser and would visually differ very little when done. Tirpitz considered the increases in displacement, and especially in cost, to be too great -- so it was ultimately decided “Grosse Kreuzer - 1913” would be built as the “third sister” of the Derfflinger Class. The final design was approved by His Majesty, the Kaiser, though there would still be a few minor changes made during construction. A quick-loading device for the broadside torpedo flat was designed and installed, and an additional searchlight was added to the foremast. The middle passageway was laid out to take advantage of protective coal bunkers while reducing the close proximity of the 5.9-inch magazines amidships. Increased ventilation was incorporated for the machinery spaces and boiler rooms. She was given fifty additional crewmen, and the central superstructure on the upper deck was lengthened to provide better cabin accommodations. There was a slight increase in displacement, and an effort was made to compensate the loss in speed by fine-tuning her underwater hull lines. The worrisome diesel dynamo rooms, in the end, were taken from beneath the main gun shell rooms and placed on the Hold Deck – removing a fire hazard from the magazine areas. THE OPPOSITION HMS Repulse: Commissioned August 1916 – 27,200 tons – 31.5 knots – 6x15-inch guns – 17x4-inch guns -- 2x21-inch torpedo tubes – armor belt 6 inches. While the discussions, planning, and cost-cutting for “the third sister” went forward, the British were not idle. “Grosse Kreuzer - 1913”, once laid down, would likely join the Hochseeflotte some time in 1916. Unbeknownst to Tirpitz and the Admiralstab – the new Panzerkreuzer would not be commissioned until 1917. By that time, the Royal Navy would posses 4 battlecruisers with 12-inch guns – HMS Inflexible, Indomitable, New Zealand, Australia – and 3 cruisers with 13.5-inch guns – HMS Lion, Princess Royal, and Tiger. If needed as support, they also had the services of the 15-inch-gunned fast battleships of the Queen Elizabeth Class – HMS Queen Elizabeth, Barham, Warspite, Malaya, and Valiant. And between Jutland in May 1916, and the commissioning of the new Imperial Panzerkreuzer in 1917, the British would add 2 battlecruisers of the 15-inch-gunned Renown Class – HMS Renown and Repulse. In the same year, two 15-inch-gunned ships of the Courageous Class (Courageous and Glorious) would also join the fleet. (I mention these last two only to be statistically correct – they were so thinly armored they could never have survived Jutland. Taking them into battle against anything bigger than a light cruiser would have been an act of self-immolation.) That gave the Grand Fleet a total of 11 battlecruisers and 5 fast battleships capable of opposing the German battlecruisers. By contrast, the Hochseeflotte could only muster five battlecruisers – two of which mounted 12-inch guns. Due to the inability of German builders to turn out capital ships quickly, and the Reichstag’s reluctance to pay for them, von Hipper’s 1st Scouting group was hopelessly outnumbered by 1917. And it was only made worse by von Tirpitz’ fear of spending money on Krupp’s excellent SK-L/50 15-inch rifle. HMS Courageous: Commissioned November 1916 – 19,180 tons – 32 knots – 4x15-inch guns – 18x4-inch guns – 2x21-inch torpedo tubes – armor belt 3 inches. With their 3-inch armor belt, the Courageous Class battlecruisers were considered “death traps” by Royal Navy officers. After the war, they were laid-up “in ordinary” and eventually converted to aircraft carriers. Below are three images of Courageous moored to buoys in the Old Harbor Basin where “retired” ships are kept awaiting final disposition. In the first shot, the old harbor wharf was made with an older brick texture, fronted by “WMP” Seawalls, with a shirt factory building repurposed as a large warehouse. The wharf was “dressed-out” with various props from “PEG’s SNM” naval series, dockyard cranes from “Nob’s 1905 Naval Series”, and a “truck-load” of other props by “AP” and various authors. The offshore mooring buoys are by "AP", as are the various lighters and crane barges scattered about. The elderly warships are from “Nob”, and the fine model of Courageous is courtesy of @Barroco Hispano. The remaining two shots give you a close-up of the battlecruiser. You can see the extremely long and narrow hull designed for great speed and providing the length to pack in the extra boilers. The last shot gives you a good detailed view of the model. Note the triple mountings for 4-inch guns adjacent the bridge and the rear of the superstructure deck. The model pictures her as she would have appeared in 1918, with “flying-off” platforms on her main battery turrets for “Sopwith Pups”. (However, NO place to land.) With only four 15-inch guns, Courageous would have been at a severe disadvantage in an engagement with an Imperial battlecruiser. GROSSE KREUZER – 1913 The construction of “Ersatz Hertha’s” hull is well underway. The “wall” running down the center of the ship is the longitudinal bulkhead that will divide the boiler and turbine rooms into separate watertight compartments. Under the terms of the Reichstag Fleet Law Amendment of 1906, an elderly warship could be “retired” after 20 years and automatically replaced. The new ship would be designated in the construction contract with the “Ersatz” (replacement) name of the cruiser that had been “retired”. “Grosse Kreuzer – 1913” would hold the builder’s designation of “Ersatz Herta”, replacing the old protected cruiser of 1898 (see Chapter 2 for details of the old cruiser). On 20 April 1913 the contract was awarded to the Kaiserliche Werft Wilhelmshaven. “Ersatz Hertha’s” keel was laid on 1 October 1913 and she would be launched a shockingly slow twenty-three months later on 1 August 1915. GENERAL CHARACTERISTICS “Ersatz Hertha” – profile plan as she appeared upon completion. Visually, “Hertha” was a near-identical twin of SMS Lutzow, with the exception of a few minor differences. Her funnels and funnel caps do not match – but each of the three battlecruisers could be identified by their unique funnels and caps. Lutzow had a simple pole mast forward, rather than the substantial tripod mast on “Hertha”. Derfflinger only received her tripod mast during the extensive repair period following Jutland. Beyond that, the differences between the two ships i\was limited to “internal” adjustments (see previous text). The “Grosse Kreuzer Ersatz Hertha” was constructed as the third ship of the Derfflinger Class. As such, there were very few differences in the construction methods, materials, and process. Rather than repeat them here, I refer you to Chapter 23 for details – and will discuss only the differences between “Hertha” and her predecessors. At 26,947 tons, her displacement was some 350 tons greater, and the new cruiser’s hull was a bit longer, at 696 feet. The Derfflinger Class had a wider beam than previous battlecruisers, which allowed for better use of internal subdivision, resulting in an enormous capacity to withstand battle damage. But wider hulls invariably increased the “drag co-efficient” – reducing the ship’s speed. Through further testing of the hull form in the hydraulic tanks, it was determined a slight lengthening of the stern would add a half knot to her speed. This resulted in a 2.5 meter increase in “Hertha’s” overall length. Unlike Derfflinger and Lutzow, the new Panzerkreuzer would not be fitted with torpedo nets and booms, nor did she receive “Frahm” roll-damping tanks. After Jutland, Derfflinger was fitted with a very heavily braced tripod mast of unusual height, with a multi-level foretop for gunnery direction. Well supported by the heavy-duty tripod, the foretop structure was spacious compared to previous arrangements and contained a fire direction and control position, a 25-foot rangefinder, a torpedo direction position, and a night observation position. “Hertha” would receive hers during the fitting-out process. The Bayern Class battleships would also be given tripod foremasts, indicating a new trend in Imperial capital ship design. ARMOR For all practical purposes, “Hertha” was given the same superb armor suite as her sister ships, with all the advantages of protective coal bunkers and even more extensive internal compartmentalization. There were, however, four exceptions. The armor on the sloping portions of the main battery turrets was increased from 4.2 inches to 6 inches. The armor belt on the bow was 4 inches, as in Derfflinger and Lutzow, but in “Hertha” it was discontinued 40 feet from the stem and replaced with a more narrow belt of 1.2 inch plating. The thinner plates were riveted to the hull skin, rather than the standard practice of bolting armor plate to the hull. An armored transverse bulkhead was added midway between “A” turret and the stem. In an effort to compensate for the reduced armor thickness at the stem, “Hertha” was given an additional watertight compartment forward (17 in total) to increase the reserve buoyancy of the bow. The designers did not yet have any battle experience to draw upon, so they had no idea they were making a serious problem even worse. ARMAMENT MAIN BATTERY The main battery arrangements of “Ersatz Hertha” were somewhat different from her two sisters. She duplicated the mounting of eight SK-L/50 12-inch rifles in four twin turrets, but they were installed in the Drh-L-C/1913 gunhouse designed for the Bayern Class dreadnoughts. Each turret had a 25-foot rangefinder installed up forward just beneath the armored roof. The old turret hood was replaced by a traversing-bearing telescope mounted between the guns. Two more bearing telescopes were mounted on either side wall of the gunhouse. The designers, in a rather bold move, took it upon themselves to alter the gunhouses for an elevation of -5 to +16 degrees, bringing them into line with foreign navies and providing a maximum range of 20,000 yards. (The US Army has an old saying...”It is easier to ask forgiveness than it is to get permission.”) Instead of the old manual traverse back-up system, an auxiliary electric motor was provided. The major difference between the gunhouses on Derfflinger and Lutzow, and those on “Hertha” was the new ammunition hoist system. Two shell hoists, one for each gun barrel, ran up the center of the barbette trunk from the shell rooms and handling spaces located on the lower platform deck. The top end of the “express” hoist came out between the guns near the trunnions. An auto-loader pushed the shell back onto a loading tray which swung the shell behind the breech. The hydraulic rammer then pushed the shell into the breech. Each hoist could service either gun. The shell hoists could only be accessed at the top or the bottom – and there were flash-proof automatic doors at either end. The powder hoists ran up from the powder magazines on the upper platform deck to the transfer room three levels below the guns. Here the powder charges were switched from the lower hoist to the upper hoist, and then up to the guns. The upper and lower hoists had flash-proof automatic doors fitted. The powder hoists were always designed with two stages so flash explosions could not shoot straight down into the powder magazines. This new arrangement gave shells their own dedicated, “express” hoist, eliminating the need to handle them twice on the way to the guns, and clearing the powder hoists of the extra work. Even with the new arrangement, shells and powder could be delivered to the guns at the rate of three rounds per minute. SECONDARY BATTERY The 5.9-inch batteries remained the same as Lutzow – fourteen SK-L/45 guns in shielded casemates on the battery deck amidships. The only difference in the guns were the mounts. A new mounting pedestal had been designed for the Bayern Class – an MPL-C/1913 – and it was taken for use on “Hertha” as well. There were minor modifications to the location of the elevation and traverse controls, but the mount was shorter, and sat closer to the deck. This made the casemate compartment somewhat smaller and allowed a few extra degrees of elevation (slightly increased range). TERTIARY BATTERY Originally, twelve 3.4-inch SK-L/45 (QF) high-velocity guns were intended for torpedo boat defense. But war experience proved these light guns useless against modern destroyers. (See Chapter 36 for specifics on gun performance.) In the end, four 3.4-inch “Flak” L/45 cannon mounted in MPL-C/1913 mounts were positioned around the forward funnel – two on either beam. As anti-aircraft weapons, they also proved of little use. British aircraft were generally carried by primitive “aircraft tenders” and proved awkward to operate, difficult to handle, unreliable, and generally incapable of seriously damaging a capital ship. TORPEDO ARMAMENT As was customary, “Ersatz Hertha” was fitted with four submerged torpedo tubes arranged in the standard pattern -- one fore and aft, and one on each beam. Sixteen of the new 24-inch “Type H” torpedoes were carried. They had a speed of 30 knots and a range of 12,000 yards, with a warhead containing 463 lbs of TNT. The Kaiserliche Marine favored a modified version of “TNT” as the bursting charge in all their shells, torpedoes, and mines because of its stable composition. Foreign navies, the British in particular, tended toward acid-based explosive compounds like Cordite and Lyddite – which often crystallized over time – and either became volatile or went inert and failed to explode on impact. A newly designed quick-loading device was installed in the broadside torpedo flat (the bow and stern torpedo flats were too small for the device). The propulsion plant – boilers, turbines, shafts, propellers, and rudders – were identical to Lutzow. The fine tuning of the underwater hull lines and the slightly lengthened stern allowed “Hertha” to achieve a speed of 27.5 knots in shallow water, even with the slightly heavier displacement. All other details of the design and construction – anchors, ship’s boats, electrical plant, searchlights, wireless transmitters and receivers – were the same as Lutzow. The “ring drainage system” was similar to Lutzow’s “improved” capacity, but the pumps were located in different positions in the hull. “Ersatz Hertha” would ship a crew of 45 officers and 1,118 men. “Grosse Kreuzer Esatz Hertha” was built to be just as fast, rugged, and powerful as her sister ships. And – if at all possible – her towering tripod mast made her even more handsome and warlike than her predecessors. Unfortunately, all the efforts of the planners and architects were unable to defeat the accountants – she came in at a “wartime inflation” cost of 59 million Marks – 3 million Marks over budget. The unadorned hull of “Ersatz Hertha” slides down the slipway at the Imperial Dockyard Wilhelmshaven with much rumbling and clanking of drag chains. Though it was a simple ceremony, it was a moment of great pride for the workmen and extreme interest for the naval officers. (Note the file of officers on the stairs right of center, bottom.) On 1 August 1915, after twenty-three long months on the builder’s slip, “Grosse Kreuzer Ersatz Hertha” was launched. After war broke out her construction was delayed, mainly due to workforce shortages. But the Admiralstab also assigned a higher priority to building U-Boats and repairing battle damage. Repairing torpedo and mine damage tied down a large part of Germany’s shipyard capacity. The new battlecruiser was christened SMS Hindenburg – in honor of Feldmarschall Paul von Hindenburg. Warships were not usually named after “living” military figures, but Hindenburg was, perhaps, the only nationally recognized “war hero” – and he was born to the Prussian aristocracy. Hindenburg had retired as a General der Infanterie in 1903, but was recalled in 1914 and won many victories on the Eastern Front. He became chief of the Supreme Army Command (OHL) in 1916 and remained as such until his second retirement on 30 June 1919 as a Generalfeldmarschall. As the most respected man in Germany, he was elected President of the Weimar Republic in 1925 and held the post until his death at age 86 on 2 August 1934. Though SMS Hindenburg was moved directly from the slipway to the fitting-out basin, work proceeded slowly, and she would remain there for another twenty-one months. In June 1916, an unusual delay occurred when specialized building materials and fabricated sections were “borrowed” to repair Derfflinger after Jutland. Judging by previous warship construction, they could have shaved a year off her time on the slipway, and another year off the fitting-out process. The delay was intolerable, and was responsible for Hindenburg’s absence at Jutland. This is an overhead shot – quite possibly taken from a Zeppelin. SMS Hindenburg has slid down the ways of the large construction slip visible in the left of the picture. The construction slips and dry docks of the Kaiserliche Werft construction yard are laid out along the west and north sides of what is the Inner Basin area of Wilhelmshaven. Hindenburg’s repair or maintenance will be carried out in the large dry dock basins to the right, or in one of several large floating docks built to accommodate the larger dreadnought capital ships. Tugs will push Hindenburg down to the “fitting-out” quay at lower left. Due to the somewhat limited facilities at Wilhelmshaven, it was only possible to have one capital ship building, and one fitting-out, at any given time. In this shot, Hindenburg has been moved from the fitting-out quay to one of the larger repair basins for the final stages of her completion. You can see the heavy work – gun turrets, superstructure, masts, and funnels have been completed. There are numerous small, but essential jobs – mostly interior finishing to be done – but there is no large work force, nor any sign of urgency. This is a 3-D artist’s view of SMS Hindenburg as she would have appeared at the time of commissioning. You can see the long, low, profile of the Derfflinger Class has been dramatically altered with the addition of the heavy and unusually tall tripod foremast. Note the large foretop fire control and spotting position. The overall design concentrates the above deck structures in a compact grouping between the gun turrets, while the long, low, hull gives her the look of a greyhound – lean and fast. The addition of the tripod mast only adds to her majestic proportions and elegant lines. SEA TRIALS Commissioned into the Kaiserliche Marine on 10 May 1917, Hindenburg was given to the battle-tested Kapitan zur See von Karpf, the commanding officer of SMS Moltke at Jutland. The new cruiser lay alongside the coaling and munitions piers from 10-21 May, while stores and fresh provisions were taken aboard from lighters. As the goods were stored below, preparations were made to begin sea trials. Unfortunately, Hindenburg’s official trials report did not survive WW II, but Kapitan von Karpf wrote several progress reports for the Admiralstab which are still extant. With the morning tide on 22 May, Hindenburg weighed and passed through the III lock to Wilhelmshaven Roads where compass deviation was determined, followed by engine and steering maneuver tests. Satisfied with her maneuverability, three torpedo boats from the 14th Flotilla assumed escort duties, and von Karpf set course for the mouth of the Elbe River at 18 knots. She anchored overnight in Altenbruch Roads and on the following day made the transit of the Kaiser Wilhelm I Canal, arriving in the Kieler Hafen by late evening. Hindenburg spent 24-29 May in the hands of the Imperial Dockyard Kiel while her machinery was checked and adjustments made. Newly commissioned, SMS Hindenburg is moored at the Munitions Quay”, working quickly to take aboard her “full combat load” so her sea trials can begin. The turret crews are loading shells and powder charges over the port side, while a work detail is preparing to take aboard ship’s stores and fresh provisions over the starboard rail. All of the lighters and tugboats in this picture are the work of “AP”, while his props are – quite literally – all over the munitions complex. Below is another view of the same scene. The staggeringly detailed model of the battlecruiser SMS Hindenburg is the exquisite work of @AP – and is, without doubt, the finest work he has yet produced!! SMS Hindenburg running the “measured mile” in the Kleinen Belt. She is putting out a great deal of smoke and raising a huge bow wave – as well as a turbulent wake (due to shallow water). At 07:00 on 30 May 1917, the Panzerkreuzer put to sea to begin trials in the western Baltic. Two separate forced-draft trials were run to test the operation of the supplemental oil-firing for the boilers. The ship reached 64,862shp and achieved a sustained speed of 25.49 knots. The morning of 4 June, the cruiser ran out for a “measured mile” speed trial in the Kleinen Belt, during which it was noted the condensers were running “warm” – indicating a retarded flow of steam to the turbines. From 1-5 June she was in dockyard hands to correct the problem, while the traversing works of “C” and “D” turrets were tested. On 11 June, Hindenburg returned to the Kleinen Belt for a re-test on the “measured mile”. This time, her engines developed 95,777shp and attained a speed of 26.7 knots. Since the Kleinen Belt is fairly shallow, it was estimated Hindenburg could easily make 28.5 knots in deep water -- without resorting to boiler overloading. During the high speed test, Hindenburg “dug-in”, taking considerable water across the fantail. From 17-20 June, Hindenburg was moored quayside while aircraft handling equipment was installed. The idea had been added during construction, and the plan called for two twin-engine floatplanes to be shipped on either beam, abaft the second funnel. Hindenburg has been moored at the Cuxhaven repair docks while mechanics work on the overheated steam condensers. The steam pipes could be blocked by construction debris, or the pipes may need to be rerouted to improve the flow pattern and steam dispersal. The repair ship Vestal has moored alongside to support any heavy work, while a machinist’s barge has been brought over to help with the precision fitting needs. This angle shows the new tripod foremast with its spacious fire control top. This second view clearly shows the additional length at the stern and the streamlined hull form. The Steam tug Goliath, standing by the machinists barge, is courtesy of @Barroco Hispano. The building on the barge is by “Nob”, while the barges, dockside cranes, small boats, tugboats, and lighters are all by “AP”. The wonderful repair ship Vestal is also by “AP”. And the absolutely fantastic battlecruiser is the handsomely crafted, scratch-built, work of @AP. SMS Hindenburg on the gunnery range. Kapitan von Karpf has worked up to full speed and has opened fire with the main battery on his second run. On 21 June, the wind was from the WSW, force 3, with light cloud as Hindenburg weighed and put to sea for gunnery trials. The main batteries opened fire at 09:45 and continued at a slow and deliberate pace until 14:15 that afternoon. The following day the 5.9-inch secondary batteries were tested between 08:45 and 13:00. On 27 June, His Highness the Grossherzog (Grand Duke) Friedrich-Franz von Mecklenburg-Schwerin was received on board for a tour of the ship and luncheon with the officers. Beginning 18 July, 1st Scouting Group arrived in Kiel and Hindenburg joined them for unit maneuver training. This was followed by torpedo firing practice and main and secondary gunnery practice on the ranges. SMS Hindenburg was officially detached from trials on 20 August 1917, and the squadron shifted to the Mecklenburg Bight to carry out more maneuvers and towed-target gunnery. The Panzerkreuzer remained there until 11 October, when they returned to the Kieler Hafen. SMS Seydlitz (foreground) followed by SMS Hindenburg during squadron maneuvers with the 1st Scouting Group in Mecklenburg Bight. On 15 October, 1st Scouting Group again ran out for training with torpedo boat flotillas. It gave the torpedo boats station-keeping practice cruising with the big ships, while each of the two flotillas took turns making mock-attacks on them. The squadron anchored in the Kieler Hafen that afternoon, and Vizeadmiral Hipper was received on board Hindenburg. He toured the ship and dined with the officers, discussing their opinions of the new warship. During his inspection, he gave special attention to the new ammunition hoist system – climbing around “B” turret like a young naval cadet. At 22:43 on 25 October, SMS Hindenburg entered the south lock at Holtenau and made the transit of the Kaiser Wilhelm I canal, arriving in Brunsbuttel around 11:20 the following morning. There was a bit of fog, so von Karpf secured the services of a pilot boat and continued to the mouth of the Elbe. Once clear of the river, speed was increased to 18 knots and Hindenburg arrived in the Jade at 16:35. Later that evening, Hindenburg received orders assigning her to 1st Scouting Group, and ran into the dockyard for more minor adjustments and some “finish work” that needed to be done. OPERATIONAL HISTORY SMS Hindenburg was the last battlecruiser, and the last dreadnought, commissioned into the Kaiserliche Marine. She was fully operational by 20 August 1917, but the war had only fifteen months to run before the guns went silent. There would be no more major action at sea, and Hindenburg’s career would be both mundane and short. With trials out of the way, the big cruiser settled into the tedious routine of pulling picket duty in the Jade, being on short notice for raising steam (back-up for picket ships), or being in dockyard hands for periodic maintenance. There were no peacetime cruises as in days past – though the new battleship SMS Baden, escorted by Derfflinger, did carry the Kaiser on a Royal visit to Heligoland Island in August 1917. Training exercises were frequent, but were held in the western Baltic or confined to areas of the German Bight protected by minefields. And there was, of course, the occasional enemy intrusion on this tiresome monotony. In the wee hours of the morning on 17 November, SMS Hindenburg was on picket duty in Schillig Roads when a message was received to assume a state of “increased readiness”. There was a reconnaissance by minesweepers (light cruisers in support) in progress in the Bight – scouting out some recently laid British minefields. The Germans were eager to clear the mines, but the British had been particularly active in the area, and they were unsure what they might run into. As a precaution, Kapitan von Karpf ordered all boilers to be lit-off and steam raised for sailing as soon as possible. At 08:51 a wireless came in from the light cruiser SMS Konigsberg...”Enemy light forces in grid square 058 Alpha.” This was followed four minutes later with...”Enemy heavy units in support – 3 battlecruisers – cruisers and destroyers.” Orders went out to Hindenburg and Moltke to standby, and at 09:40 they were ordered to weigh and put to sea in support of the German light forces. Five boats of the XII Torpedo Boat Flotilla tore down the Jade’s deep water channel to get out ahead and form a screen for the big ships. Within minutes, Hindenburg, followed by Moltke, swept down the channel at 15 knots – visibility was just 5 miles. SMS Hindenburg moving to support German light forces operating in the Heligoland Bight. As seen from SMS Moltke. By 10:45, the Panzerkreuzer were passing War Light Vessel “A” off the Jade, making 23 knots. Around 11:16 the wind shifted slightly and a haze began to settle-in to the north and west. With visibility down to 2 miles, Hindenburg increased to 26 knots and gradually pulled ahead of Moltke, who’s best speed was only 23 knots (dirty bottom – bad coal). At 12:10, ships came in sight ahead on both bows and lookouts identified SMS Kaiser and Kaiserin. German torpedo boats could be seen ahead with light cruisers off the starboard bow. Konteradmiral von Reuter signaled Hindenburg and Moltke to fall-in astern and von Karpf took station off the battleship’s starboard quarter. They maintained course NW until 12:40 when a wireless from the Flottenchef (Scheer) ordered the battleships back to the Jade. Vizeadmiral Souchon (returned from Turkey) ordered the battlecruisers to continue scouting to the NW, and they did, until recalled around 15:00. Hindenburg and Moltke dropped anchor in Schillig Roads at 19:45 without sighting a single enemy. It is just as well. The British had been laying minefields close around the German Bight in an attempt to hinder German surface units, and especially U-Boats, from getting into the North Sea. The raid was supposed to discourage German mine-sweeping activity. HMS Renown, Courageous, Glorious, and a light cruiser squadron were to carry out the attack -- supported at a distance by the 1st Battle Squadron of the Grand Fleet. The British charged out of the haze just after sun-up and opened fire. The German minesweepers instantly scattered and laid a very effective smoke screen as they withdrew. Repulse landed one 15-inch shell on the light cruiser Konigsberg and raced ahead at 31 knots to close on her prey – when a great cloud of black smoke was seen rising to the SE. That could only mean one thing – battleships. Repulse quickly put about, recalled her light cruisers and destroyers, and withdrew into the NW haze. On 23 November, Vizeadmiral von Hipper transferred from SMS Seydlitz to SMS Hindenburg, and in a brief ceremony, his flag was hoisted to her forepeak. Hindenburg would remain flagship of the 1st Scouting Group until 21 June 1919. Beyond that bit of naval protocol, Hindenburg’s existence continued in the mundane and tiresome duties of a fleet in harbor: picket duty – escorting minesweepers – squadron evolutions – visits to the dockyard – and, the occasional “war patrol.” SMS Hindenburg on a visit to the dockyard. She is seen here, cradled in one of the large floating docks. Typically, one or two Panzerkreuzer, accompanied by light cruisers and torpedo boats, might sail westward and scout the “Hoofden” area off the Dutch coast in hopes of surprising some British shipping or light forces. Or – they might even run out to the Dogger Bank and scatter British light forces interfering with German minesweeping operations. Even if nothing momentous was achieved, it allowed the battlecruisers some time at sea and gave them practice operating in the wartime environment. In the later part of 1917, Admiral Scheer began harassing the Norwegian convoys to and from Britain. The Royal Navy had begun providing convoy escorts at least a year earlier to keep U-Boats away from the vital cargoes bound for Britain. After Jutland, Scheer was desperate to find some way to hit back at the British while proving the Hochseeflotte was still relevant to the German war effort. On 17 October, the fast minelaying light cruisers SMS Brummer and Bremse intercepted an east-bound convoy of twelve freighters and two destroyers – HMS Mary Rose and Strongbow. The convoy scattered while the German cruisers were distracted by the escorts, but they managed to sink both destroyers and hunt down nine of the freighters before withdrawing at high speed. On 12 December, four German torpedo boats ambushed another convoy of five freighters, again with two escorting destroyers. All five freighters were lost along with one destroyer. Admiral Sir David Beatty, new C.-in-C. Grand Fleet, could not afford to keep losing destroyers, and was equally reluctant to risk light cruisers. He decided battleships would quickly put an end to the German nuisance raids and attached a Battle Squadron of eight ships to the escort force. This quickly became known to the Admiralstab, and just as quickly, it was seen as the opportunity for which they had been waiting all along. At long last, a manageable portion of the British battle fleet might be isolated and destroyed. This is a view of SMS Hindenburg moored at her berth along the breakwater in Cuxhaven’s roadsted. Built as one of three Derfflinger Class battlecruisers, she is nearly identical to SMS Lutzow. The only visible differences are the tripod foremast with fighting top, and the “cosmetic” appearance of her funnels. You will note, as flagship of Scouting Forces, she is flying a Vizeadmiral’s flag at the forepeak. And -- she is the largest, last, and finest, of all the Imperial battlecruisers. The breakwaters are by “Uki”, and the modified mooring points are by “Mattb325”. The gunboat USS Erie, patrolling off the breakwater, is courtesy of “Barroco Hispano”. The motor launch off the port beam, the boat boom and small boats, the harbor tug with provision lighter – and the superbly crafted model of the SMS Hindenburg is the meticulous work of “AP”. BELOW is a close-up of the detail work on SMS Hindenburg. The massive gun turrets are authentic in every detail, right down to the German version of the “Carley Floats” on their sides. The new tripod foremast and fire control fighting top are clearly visible, with a new black paint scheme for the upper portions. The “signature” boat booms (cranes) and “Kingston Posts” are intricately detailed constructions, and each of the ship’s boats is an individual “work of art” in itself. The soot-stained funnels, weathered decking, and weathered hull are details that are often overlooked. The level of detail is magnificent – and this model is his best work – with more to come. Vizeadmiral von Hipper was tasked with planning the operation and he fell back on the old reliable methods. With the light cruisers of 2nd Scouting Group screening ahead, the Panzerkreuzer of 1st Scouting Group would form the advance screen and convoy strike force. If there were no battleships in the escort, the battlecruisers would make short work of the convoy. If there were British battleships present, Hipper would signal the Hochseeflotte – waiting to the south – just below the horizon. Scheer would outnumber the British battle squadron by nearly 3 to 1. The only real difference in the operational planning was that Hipper imposed strict wireless restrictions on the fleet prior to and during the operation. There would be no gossip on the airwaves. On 23 April 1918, at 05:00, 2nd Scouting Group, followed by 1st Scouting Group cleared the Jade and steered north along the swept channels. But the weather was terrible, with patches of thick fog limiting visibility to as little as 200 meters, and only two and a half miles at best. Navigating minefield channels in such conditions was insanity. Both scouting groups anchored at 11:35, but resumed course and speed at 12:10. By midnight, the two scouting groups had cleared all the British-laid minefields and increased speed to 18 knots. Morning of 24 April dawned bright with a NE breeze and visibility of 34 to 46 miles. Around 09:00 Hipper swung Hindenburg about and led Derfflinger and Seydlitz back to Moltke, lying dead in the water – some fifty miles SW of Bergen, Norway. SMS Moltke had thrown her inboard, starboard propeller, and before the turbines could be shut down, the shaft ran away and caused the couplings to shatter – sending large chunks of metal slicing through the ship. Several boilers were disabled, the hull had been holed and was making water, and only one turbine could be operated. The crew plugged the leak, began sorting out the boilers, and made temporary repairs that would get the ship underway at 4 knots. Fortunately, the main body of the Hochseeflotte drew abreast around 10:25, and the battleship SMS Oldenburg was ordered to take the crippled battlecruiser under tow for the Jade. With Moltke in good hands, Hipper turned north once more in search of the British convoy. By 13:10, 1st Scouting Group was about 60 miles west of Bergen, Norway. Hipper steered a search pattern across the known course of the previous convoys three times. At the top leg of the third pass, he searched about 20 miles farther north, then swung 10 miles inshore and, steering SSE, passed within 40 miles of the fjord mouth. But to no avail – no merchant ships nor warships. It was now past the usual sailing time for the convoys – so they had either sailed early, or canceled the sailing. Hipper swung Hindenburg due south, recalled 2nd Scouting Group from their search pattern, and set course for the Jade. A brief, code-word signal was sent to Scheer, who promptly turned the battle fleet about and also made for Wilhelmshaven. About 01:00 on 25 April, SMS Oldenburg, with Moltke in tow, came into view under a bright moon in a cloudless sky. By this time, Moltke’s crew had made repairs to the engines and the towed battlecruiser was making 13 knots. Hipper reduced speed and 1st Scouting Group took station on the seaward flank of the tow to provide security for the journey home. The group made steady progress southward until about 12:10, when a minesweeper in advance of the group, M-67, struck a mine, broke in half, and sank. Later, around 19:37, Moltke (under tow) was approaching Amrum Bank Passage and the entrance to the German defensive minefields. She was struck in the port side engine room by a torpedo fired from the British submarine E-42. The battlecruiser took on nearly 1,800 tons of water and began listing to port. Kapitan zur See Gygas knew his pumps were holding the water in check, so he maneuvered Moltke into the Amrum Bank Passage and gained the safety of the defensive minefields. Eventually four salvage tugs arrived and helped pump out the flooded compartments, then two of them were lashed alongside, while a third took over the tow from Oldenburg. Around 03:20 on 26 April 1st Scouting Group dropped anchor in Wilhelmshaven Roads, and Moltke went into dry dock soon after daybreak. It was later determined the German agent in Bergen had gotten his information wrong. The convoy was actually scheduled to sail on 25 April – twenty-four hours after Hipper’s visit. But – Hipper’s ban on wireless traffic before and during the sortie proved quite effective. The canny Bavarian had pinpointed the weakness in German operational security. The Room 40 code-breakers in Whitehall never had the slightest notion the Hochseeflotte was loitering about off Norway. A great deal has been written by historians to prove Jutland put the “fear of God” into the Germans and they never again ventured to sea after the battle. The truth, however, is far less complimentary to the British, and a lot less provocative to the Germans. In fact, the entire nature of The Great War at sea changed after Jutland. Submarines and mines were considered far too dangerous in the confined waters of the North Sea. German submarines had become a positive menace to merchant shipping and warships alike. After the battle, Jellicoe arbitrarily decided the Grand Fleet could no longer be risked in the southern portions of the North Sea – it was too close to German submarine bases and too easily mined by German light forces. For his part, Scheer devoted much money and many man-hours to keeping lanes swept through the British-laid minefields, and his warships were constantly stalked by British submarines. The Norwegian sortie proved the German battle fleet could, and would, put to sea – but only when they thought an ambush was possible. The German heavy ships went to sea quite frequently, and sortied outside their own territory, but mostly kept in waters where they could not be easily surprised. So the two greatest battle fleets in the world kept to their own portion of the North Sea – or rode at anchor in “checkmate” of one another. But events in the land war continued to move forward, regardless of the stalemate at sea. And anyone in a position of command knew the war could not last much longer. The British naval blockade had strangled German trade and access to foodstuffs and raw materials – the nation would soon collapse. On 11 August 1918, Hipper was promoted to full Admiral and given command of the Hochseeflotte. Konteradmiral Ludwig von Reuter assumed command of 1st Scouting Group, hoisting his flag aboard SMS Hindenburg the following day. Scheer, having been promoted Chief of the Naval Staff, was determined to inflict as much damage as possible on the Royal Navy in order to obtain a better bargaining position in a negotiated peace. It was early October 1918, and at this point in the game, Scheer was no longer concerned about possible losses to the Hochseeflotte. Scheer’s plan involved two simultaneous raids. One, with torpedo boats and a light cruiser squadron, was to attack British warships operating off the Flanders coast. The other strike by more torpedo boats and light cruisers was to be supported by the Panzerkreuzer of 1st Scouting Group – and would be aimed at the massed shipping in the Thames estuary. No one had attacked the Thames estuary since the Dutch raided the Medway in 1667. This was a spectacularly bold move – guaranteed to bring Beatty and the Grand Fleet south. Once the raids had caused the maximum damage and confusion, the two strike forces would retire and rendezvous with the battle squadrons of the Hochseeflotte. Somewhere off the Texel or Terschelling, Hipper and the Hochseeflotte would offer battle to the Royal Navy. As the Hochseeflotte began to concentrate in the Jade, war-weary sailors became aware of the suicidal nature of the coming operation, and began to jump-ship in large numbers. As Derfflinger and Von der Tann passed through the III Lock into the roadsted, over 300 men from the two ships climbed over the side and disappeared ashore. By 29 October the capital ship crews were in full mutiny and the planned operation was abandoned. Events moved quickly as news of the mutiny spread. Demonstrations and outright riots broke out across Germany, and on 9 November, Kaiser Wilhelm II abdicated both the Imperial and Prussian thrones. On 10 November Wilhelm took a train across the Dutch border and went into exile – where he remained, rather well-off, until his death at age 82, in June 1941. On 11 November 1918, the Armistice was signed and the blood-letting stopped. In less than two weeks, 500 years of Hohenzollern rule over Prussia ceased, and the Imperial German Empire became the Wiemar Republic. Under the terms of the Armistice, the bulk of the Imperial Fleet was to be interned at Scapa Flow pending further disposition by a formal treaty. On 21 November 1918, fifteen capital ships (to include all of the battlecruisers), seven light cruisers, and 50 modern torpedo boats, departed German waters for an unknown fate. Prior to departure, Admiral Adolf von Trotha (Admiralstab) made it clear to Konteradmiral von Reuter (commanding), that the interned ships were not to be seized by anyone – under any circumstances. The German fleet remained in an uneasy captivity during the Versailles peace negotiations -- until a copy of the London “Times” informed Reuter the Armistice was to expire at noon on 21 June 1919. This was, of course, the deadline by which Germany was to have signed the peace treaty. But Reuter decided the British intended to seize the German fleet once the Armistice expired. With no ammunition, he could not defend the ships, and they had insufficient coal to reach Germany. The only means to prevent seizure was to scuttle the ships when an opportunity presented itself. Early on the morning of 21 June, the Grand Fleet steamed out of Scapa Flow to conduct training maneuvers. (Yet another blunder by Beatty.) Around 10:00, Reuter made a flag signal ordering the German ships to stand by – and at 11:20 the order to scuttle was sent by semaphore and searchlight. Actions were taken immediately. Seacocks and flood valves were opened, water pipes smashed, porthole scuttles and watertight doors opened, and even condenser covers were removed to facilitate flooding. Without going into the sad details, 15 capital ships, 5 light cruisers, and 32 torpedo boats settled to the bottom of Scapa Flow. SMS Hindenburg was the last to go down around 17:00. Among the capital ships, only the battleship Baden failed to sink – boarded by the British before it was too late. Within the space of a few hours, the second largest Navy in the world all but ceased to exist. Rightly or wrongly – the Imperial Navy officers had performed the only act of defiance within their power. Defeated in war – but not in battle – they could only preserve their honor through destroying the Hochseeflotte by their own hand. By 17:00 on 21 June 1919, this is all of SMS Hindenburg that remained above water. Her Kapitan scuttled the vessel on an even keel – making it easier for the crew to escape. She was raised 11 years later and scrapped at Rosyth. Her ship’s bell was returned to the Bundesmarine in 1959. NEXT TIME…… THE LAST DREAMS OF EMPIRE MANY THANKS to @Barroco Hispano for his beautiful warship models. SPECIAL THANKS to my friend and partner, @AP, for his talents, meticulous models, colorful imagination, and extreme dedication. If you enjoyed anything – please punch the “like” button so WE will know. A comment would be even more informative. Comments and critiques requested and gratefully accepted. All questions answered promptly to the best of our ability. THANK YOU for your visit! You may wish to visit these CJ’s as well…… SERIES I: IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: WILHELMSHAVEN SERIES II: IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: CUXHAVEN Appearing – Work In Publication SERIES III: IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: BREMERHAVEN Appearing -- ??? And please feel free to drop in at… THE SIMTROPOLIS SHIPYARD https://community.simtropolis.com/forums/topic/761469-simtropolis-shipyard/?tab=comments#comment-1766496

SMS Konig – lead ship of a class of four – Grosser Kurfurst, Markgraf, Kronprinz – they were the most modern Imperial dreadnought battleships at the Battle of Jutland, 31 May 1916. Konig led the powerful III Battle Squadron in the van of the Hochseeflotte and suffered the most damage of all the German battleships. IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: CUXHAVEN By: Dreadnought & AP Chapter 40: IF THE TRUTH BE TOLD... With the damaged ships repaired, all traces of the traumatic battle were, for the most part, erased. But it took months of time and countless man-hours worked around the clock to make that happen. When the last rivet was hammered home and the last coat of paint applied, The Great War at sea returned to pretty much what it had been before the Battle of Jutland. But what remained was a question that has been contested by naval officers and debated by historians for over a century: Who won the Battle of Jutland? And the controversy surrounding this over-simplified question began almost as soon as the first returning ship’s anchor touched the seabed. At noon on 2 June, German authorities issued a press release claiming victory -- including sinking a British battleship, two battlecruisers, two armored cruisers, a light cruiser, a submarine, and several destroyers. (The claims are, of course, inaccurate – but probably honest. In confused battles it is possible to make such mistakes.) The statement also admitted to the loss of SMS Pommern and Wiesbaden (a pre-dreadnought battleship and a light cruiser). The scuttling of Lutzow, Elbing and Rostock was unknown to the British and withheld as a matter of military intelligence. The “Victory of the Skagerrak” was lauded in the press, school children were given a holiday, and the whole nation celebrated. The Kaiser addressed the fleet on 5 June, proudly showering “his” navy with Iron Crosses and announcing a new chapter in world history...”the magic of Trafalgar has been broken”. (The Imperial government originally claimed a victory on the basis of being the smaller battle fleet, while sinking more ships than the British. Post-war official Germany chose to hail the battle as a victory, and continued to celebrate it until the late 1960’s. The “Skaggerak Victory” was mainly used as a means to suppress the disgraceful memory of the German naval mutiny of 1918-1919, as well as a means to salvage wounded pride after defeat in World War I). His Majesty Kaiser Wilhelm II addresses the assembled officers of the Hochseeflotte from the deck of SMS Grosser Kurfurst (just aft of “B” turret). It should be noted he is wearing the uniform of a Grosseadmiral – complete with red sea boots and the “baton” of a GrosseAdmiral. He was overjoyed to think he had beaten the mighty Royal Navy. (A detail from a Claus Bergen painting.) In Britain, the first news came from boasting German wireless broadcasts..."The result of the fighting is a significant success for our forces against a much stronger adversary". Then, warships began to arrive in British ports, many damaged – some heavily and visibly -- and their crews had stories to tell. Slowly, the British public began to realize the Royal Navy had not delivered a “second Trafalgar”, and quickly became suspicious and angry as the Admiralty remained ominously silent. The government considered suppressing the news, but realized this was no longer possible. Late evening on 2 June, the Admiralty released a rather laconic statement containing nothing more than the losses on each side. The following day, based on that communique, British newspapers reported a German victory -- and the British population was thunder-struck. On 3 June, the Admiralty issued a statement expanding on German losses – with another the following day making grossly exaggerated claims. But they were far too late and no one believed the exaggerated claims anyway. At this point, it must be remembered both Britain and Germany had lavished billions in taxpayer funds on their battle fleets, and a victory (even a conditional one) was needed to justify those expenditures. But -- in an even more tragic development, the wrath of the British public would be shifted onto the Army when July brought horrific losses at the Battle of the Somme. However – there is some justification for both sides at Jutland to claim a victory, of one sort or another. For the Kaiserliche Marine there were several points in their favor: (1) The loss tables (previous chapter) clearly demonstrated the Germans sank more ships than did the British. The 99 ships of the Hochseeflotte sank 117,000 tons of British warships, while the 151 ships of the Grand Fleet sank only 63,000 tons of German warships. (2) It can be argued the Germans sank three modern battlecruisers for the loss of only one of their own. (The loss of Pommern was of no great consequence. It was certainly sad and tragic – but the pre-dreadnought battleship was obsolete, of little combat value, and had no business being at Jutland.) (3) All damaged German ships were repaired and returned to service with the fleet. (4) The British had been prevented from achieving a decisive victory comparable to Trafalgar. (5) The Germans had preserved their battle fleet and Alfred Thayer Mahan’s strategic doctrine of “a fleet in being”. (6) An intact Hochseeflotte in the Jade discouraged the British from making amphibious landings on the German coast – either the North Sea or the Pomeranian beaches of the Baltic. (7) Scheer’s withdrawal from the battle was not viewed as a mark of defeat. The Admiralstab had always known Britain’s margin of superiority was too great to challenge in a stand-up fleet engagement. When surprised by Jellicoe, Scheer merely followed strategic doctrine and withdrew in the face of superior numbers. However, the destruction of 3 British battlecruisers could be considered an “ambush victory”. (The very thing Jellicoe had warned Beatty against.) (8) By mid-1916, German leadership (including the Kaiser) had begun to think in terms of a “negotiated” peace. A largely intact Hochseeflotte would be a powerful bargaining chip at the negotiating table. Scheer’s withdrawal at Jutland preserved that option. SMS Von der Tann as she would have appeared circa 1915. Von der Tann was the first “Grosse Kreuzer” commissioned into the Kaiserliche Marine and the progenitor of the “so-called” battlecruisers of the Imperial Navy. She was, in fact, the first warship to demonstrate the successful merger between the large cruiser and the battleship – the “fast-battleship”. The detail in this superb 3-D graphic is well worth careful examination. On the British side: (1) The “risk theory” was discounted. Admiral Tirpitz had built the Hochseeflotte based on the “risk theory”. He hoped to build enough battleships to threaten the British with unacceptable losses -- possibly reducing Britain to a second or third class naval power. At Jutland, British capital ships outnumbered the Germans nearly 2 to 1. The British were not the ones “at risk” – the Germans were. So much for the “risk theory”. (2) The Germans failed in their tactical objective of destroying a substantial portion of the Grand Fleet. (Though sinking three battlecruisers is a pretty good start.) (3) The British prevented the Germans from breaking the economic blockade of Germany, which would eventually strangle their “home front” and bring the war to a close in late 1918. (4) The Royal Navy maintained control of the sea lanes, exercising Alfred Thayer Mahan’s dictum of “sea control” to Britain’s fullest benefit – while Germany was confined to the Heligoland Bight and the Baltic Sea. HMS Lion leading the “Splendid Cats” into battle. Based on the facts, and in light of subsequent actions by the British and German fleets, it is obvious there was no clear-cut victor. In this instance, both the Grand Fleet and the Hochseeflotte could claim to have partially satisfied their objectives – notably without crippling losses. The Germans clearly won a “tactical” victory. Everything they accomplished had either limited political ramifications, or was directly tied to the operation of a battle fleet at a tactical level. The Imperial battlecruisers were magnificent weapons superbly handled by Hipper, and accounted for all three capital ships lost by the British. German gunnery, as a whole, was far superior to that of the British. The battle line of the Hochseeflotte was a tight and well-controlled formation that responded quickly to command signals. And through it all, the various German squadrons worked in close cooperation with one another. The British lost the “tactical” Battle of Jutland for a number of reasons. Beatty and his battlecruisers managed to perform brilliantly in the last few minutes before the battleships opened fire on one another – but those were the only few minutes. Early in the battle, Beatty nullified the advantage of longer range guns by allowing Hipper to close to a range suited to him – and then open fire first. Then he threw away his greatest advantage in failing to coordinate his two squadrons (only ten ships) during “the run to the south” and “the run to the north”. And after Scheer’s second “battle turn away” he failed to reestablish contact with the enemy. At age 57, Jellicoe was undoubtedly a creature of the Victorian Era navy. Regardless of his innate intelligence and abundance of technical knowledge, he and his captains were finely crafted products of the rigid and class-conscious hierarchy of the Royal Navy. None above the rank of captain could be called dashing, bold, or heroic – but they had spent a lifetime perfecting the craft of handling ships and men – and none would flinch at the sound of the guns. Jellicoe handled his battle fleet with a calm and considered skill, outmaneuvered Scheer twice, and overwhelmed his enemy with “fire superiority”. But the Grand Fleet was cumbersome and not nearly as agile or responsive as the Hochseeflotte – so there were no bold plans nor elaborate maneuvers. And Jellicoe’s captains had not been sufficiently impressed with the need to keep the flagship informed. But I can say with all confidence that no man in the Royal Navy could have handled the fleet better than Jellicoe. Unlike Beatty, Jellicoe knew a simple “tactical” victory would not be enough. Due to his quick thinking and cool judgment, the British won the all-important “strategic” victory at Jutland. When the smoke cleared, Britannia still ruled the waves and controlled the North Sea – more or less. The day after the battle, Jellicoe was ready to put to sea with a powerful battle fleet – and the Germans were beginning to think it might not be wise to run such risks. Grand Fleet at sea, early 1914. There is, perhaps, a more pertinent question than who won the Battle of Jutland. Most historians have approached the subject from a simple and uncomplicated viewpoint: there was a battle – so there MUST be a winner. But there is more to be considered. Was it possible in 1916 to achieve any sort of decisive result between two modern dreadnought battle fleets? Or was it, in fact, impossible for two such technically advanced battle fleets to achieve any result remotely resembling Trafalgar? There were approximately 260 ships engaged at Jutland, spread over many miles of ocean. Were the means of communication then available to the two commanders capable of controlling long battle lines and far-flung cruiser groups? And what about the unanticipated effect of poor visibility on the “command” function? The vast quantity of funnel and gunsmoke from nearly 300 warships made it impossible for either Admiral to see more than ten or twelve ships at any given moment. The Hochseeflotte did a fairly professional job with their flag signals, searchlights, and wireless traffic – and managed a fairly tight formation. But Jellicoe’s line-ahead formation for his long and ponderous battle fleet was more necessity than choice. Any effort at a complicated envelopment of the German fleet was beyond his limited visibility and signaling capabilities. In the decade before The Great War, dreadnought technology and tactics had developed by leaps and bounds – forced along at a mind-boggling, frantic, pace. Jutland may be the proof it had exceeded human capabilities to control it. The years after Jutland produced many volumes of literature – especially between the wars. Most books were written by one major player or another, some staunchly defending their actions, while others tried to blame someone else for their failings. After WW II, the senior commanders were dead, and an entirely new generation of writers began examining Jutland with unbiased eyes. Though there is a new Jutland book every few years, none have yet produced a clear consensus as to who was victorious – or if there was a victor at all. The battle is now widely viewed as indecisive, and this view remains influential. There has, of late, been a literary trend proclaiming the battle the “last hurrah” of the Dreadnought Era, and therefore of little significance. (There is always a “new school of thought”, every five or ten years, that feel it necessary to rewrite the knowledge on Robert E. Lee, Erwin Rommel, or the Battle of Waterloo.) The “new school” believes battleships became irrelevant with the coming of mines, torpedoes, and submarines, and Jutland merely proved it. That is simply WRONG. By 1916 the floating mine had come of age, but the submarine and torpedo were still primitive and unreliable. Neither weapon, though useful, proved particularly deadly at Jutland. The battleship coexisted alongside mines, torpedoes, and submarines for the first four decades of the 20th Century and continued to be the measure of a nation’s naval power. Numbers of battleships were built between the wars -- largely due to the “old school” influence of the “battleship admirals”. And it was only in 1940 at the Battle of Taranto, 1941 at Pearl Harbor -- and the loss of HMS Prince of Wales and Repluse in the South China Sea -- that the battleship was supplanted by the aircraft carrier. But in 1916, submarines and torpedoes were both new and largely untried, proved difficult to operate, and were frequently unreliable. For the record – was the Battle of Jutland indecisive? Quite possibly – because the status quo hardly changed. But the dreadnought battleship and the Battle of Jutland – were ABSOLUTELY relevant to their time and place. The 5th Battle Squadron at sea during the Jutland sortie – HMS Barham leading Warspite, Valiant, and Malaya. LESSONS LEARNED There were a great many lessons learned from the battle of Jutland – most of them the hard way. The two worst lessons learned by the Kaiserliche Marine could be attributed directly to Admiral von Tirpitz. Promoted to Grosseadmiral by 1911, he had dominated the Kaiserliche Marine for very nearly 20 years -- strategic and tactical thought – and more importantly, warship design. Once war broke out in 1914, his design decisions and compromises came back to haunt the capital ships of the Hochseeflotte. Beginning with the first battlecruiser, SMS Von der Tann, the armor suite was a brilliant piece of work. But Tirpitz, ever mindful of the financial limitations imposed by the Reichstag, did everything in his power to keep the costs down. With each new battlecruiser, the size, tonnage, speed, and armament increased – dramatically raising the price tag. Eventually, it became standard practice on both battleships and battlecruisers to reduce the waterline armor belt as it neared the bow and stern. The standard pattern became a 12-inch main belt running from “A” turret to “D” turret. Beyond that, the armor belt extended to the bow and stern, but only with a 4-inch thickness. At the time, Tirpitz deemed that to be sufficient protection. By 1910, building costs had skyrocketed and the Derfflinger Class, still on the drawing boards, was overweight and over budget. It was suggested the armor on the bow section might be reduced below the standard 4-inch thickness. Herr Hullmann of the design bureau counseled against such a move…… “With a reduction in belt armor thickness on the bow, it should be understood large caliber shells will inevitably strike the ship there. One must then expect the ship will fill with water forward. If the damage is sufficient, leaks will occur that cannot be sealed with the means available onboard. The ship’s outer hull, to which the armor is secured, will undoubtedly leak, and the forecastle ahead of the citadel transverse bulkhead will certainly fill, and could not be kept drained with the means available onboard”. Herr Hullmann’s explanation stopped them from reducing the armor thickness, but none of them realized he had put his finger on the “Achilles Heel” of all Imperial battlecruisers. The midships sections of German armor belts extended vertically up to the main deck, but at the bow and stern they did not. In effect, the bow armor protection was not thick enough, nor did it cover a large enough area. At Jutland, three of Hipper’s five battlecruisers were heavily damaged by gunfire -- in the bow, above and below the waterline. SMS Lutzow could not be saved and was abandoned and scuttled. SMS Derfflinger, her sister-ship, was heavily damaged in exactly the same manner, but managed to reach the Jade. SMS Seydlitz took devastating damage to the bow and forecastle and arrived in the Jade more sunk than afloat. It should be noted both Moltke and Von der Tann suffered large caliber hits and flooding in the equally lightly armored stern section. It is, indeed, ironic that after all that careful planning and design, all those adjustments to the complicated armored suite, and the tremendous amount of damage they were able to absorb – Hipper’s magnificent battlecruisers had a “glass jaw”. SMS Derfflinger taking on ammunition while moored in Schillig Roads. Derfflinger is seen as she might have looked in early 1915 – after the Battle of Dogger Bank. Upon returning from battle, the Panzerkreuzer was assigned to picket duty, but the job of making the ship “battle ready” went on regardless. While minor repairs were being made by the crew, the gunnery crews were tasked with restocking the ship’s magazines. In order to speed-up the process, lighters have come alongside both the seaward (port) side, as well as the shallow, inshore side. Same scene, view from astern. The beautifully detailed model of Derfflinger is courtesy of "Barroco Hispano", and the tugs, lighters, and mooring buoys are from “AP”. The second lesson learned also applied to design decisions made by Tirpitz – the gun caliber of the Panzerkreuzer. The chosen main battery guns of the Kaiserliche Marine were the 11-inch SK-L/45, and later, the 11-inch SK-L/50, followed by the 12-inch SK-L/50. The long-barreled, high velocity weapons were, indeed, excellent – and their higher velocity reduced the time of flight of the shells, while imparting greater accuracy and armor penetration through increased kinetic energy. This was especially so with the 11-inch weapon, while the greater weight of the 12-inch shell improved penetration. At the time of Von der Tann’s design, the Admiralstab became aware 12-inch guns would be mounted on the British Invincible Class battlecruisers. Tirpitz was urged to change Von der Tann’s 11-inch armament to the excellent and available Krupp 12-inch gun. Taken at face value, the request for a larger gun, equal to your enemy, only makes sense. Tirpitz, however, believed in the “volume of fire” theory -- smaller shells, fired faster, would do the job. This theory did not take into account the weight of shell and the size of the bursting charge. The increase in gun size was declined on the grounds of additional cost and a delay in construction time. The request to jump to 12-inch guns was again made when the Motlke Class was designed – and again with SMS Seydlitz. Each time the request was refused for the same reasons – increased costs and delays in the design or construction process. When the Derfflinger Class design was undertaken, the British had already armed a number of battlecruisers and battleships with 13.5-inch weapons, which outclassed the German 11-inch gun. The disparity was so painfully obvious it could no longer be ignored – so the Derfflinger Class got 12-inch weapons. But during the discussion, the point was raised that there was talk in Britain of going to a 15-inch weapon. This, alone, should have been an “alarm bell” to Tirpitz. If there was “talk” in Britain of a 15-inch gun, that meant Vickers already had one under development – and the Royal Navy would most certainly use it. British pre-war Admiralty memorandum can actually shed some light on this subject. Jellicoe, as Second Sea Lord and Controller of the Navy, produced a 1909 study on the comparison of armor and gun calibers between the Royal Navy and the Imperial Navy. Even then, German ships were known to be better armored than comparable British warships – because of their high quality armor and internal subdivision. Because German technology produced a savings of weight in the propulsion plant, it could be directly applied to additional armor. Just one comparison (and there are others) will illustrate this point. HMS Queen Mary was given 3,900 tons of armor plate on a total displacement of 27,200 tons. Her German contemporary, SMS Seydlitz carried 5,200 tons of armor plate on a displacement of only 24,593 tons. Seydlitz held a small advantage in speed. The Germans had gained a distinct technological advantage over the British because their turbines and boilers were custom-made with weight-saving materials and designs. Their boilers were smaller and more efficient because they used small water tubes as opposed to the larger British “steam box” method. German turbines were just as sturdy and efficient – but used less steel of a higher quality. And Krupp rifles were much lighter than British weapons of an equivalent performance. Jellicoe’s memorandum went on to point out the superiority of German guns. For example: the standard German 11-inch gun weighed considerably less than its’ British counterpart and had better ballistics, with a penetrating force equivalent to the British 12-inch weapon. The newly developed German 12-inch rifle was an unknown quantity at the time of the memorandum, but Jellicoe prudently recommended new construction for the Fleet be armed with a 13.5-inch weapon developed by Vickers. It was later found that Krupp’s 12-inch gun exceeded the performance of the Vickers weapon. The Vickers 13.5-inch gun tube weighed in at 76 tons – Krupp’s 12-inch rifle weighed only 48 tons. The reason for the difference in weight and performance is simple (and I will keep this short and simple). The British armaments industry had adopted a “wire-wound” gun tube for heavy artillery and naval guns in the 1890’s. A central core is cast and then bored out to form the gun barrel. In Britain, it was discovered that the steel “bore-tube” was prone to failure due to impurities in the metal. British steel was manufactured with the Siemens-Martin “open-hearth” process. Consequently, the cast “bore-tube” was tightly wrapped with several layers of steel wire cable as reinforcement, then “cased” by an outer steel jacket (which is what you see poking out of a gun turret). These guns were not suited to “enhancement”. If better performance was needed – the British had to build bigger, longer, and heavier guns to obtain it. Krupp guns were made of steel produced in special electric furnaces (the “crucible” method) which provided an exceptionally fine metal free of impurities. The process produces a high-strength steel with less weight. German designers opted for the “built-up” naval gun. This was a solid, bored-out, central gun tube, encased with as many as five, high-tensile strength, layered outer tubes of reducing size toward the muzzle. (If you look at a German gun tube, you will see they usually have “segments” that reduce in size as they approach the muzzle.) These tubes were precision tooled and fit tightly around the central core as reinforcement. This is the forward main battery turret of SMS Helgoland (mentioned above). This is a classic view of the German 12-inch SK-L/50 gun. These guns were “built-up” as opposed to “wire-wound”. The difference between the two can be seen easily. If you look closely, there are three “segments” in each of the gun barrels. Each successive segment (or tube) increases in diameter as it approaches the breech of the gun, located inside the turret. There would be several reinforcing tubes layered over the shell chamber inside the gun tube -- where the explosive power of the firing charges would be greatest. The strength and rigidity of this method allowed for much longer barrels. German guns tended to be 50 calibers in length, whereas British guns were no more than 42 to 45 calibers in length (wire-wound gun tubes always “droop” beyond 45 calibers). The added strength of the Krupp gun allowed a larger firing charge, which increased velocity -- while the lengthened gun tube, with its longer rifled bore, imparted greater spin on the shell – providing much greater accuracy. The strength and length of the Krupp rifles is largely responsible for the phenomenally accurate, and tightly grouped salvos seen at Jutland. The Krupp steel also showed less wear on the rifled grooves in the barrel, giving the guns a long service life before requiring a new liner (about 200 rounds). British gun accuracy tended to degrade considerably after 70 rounds. It was clear to anyone interested – German science, innovation, and metallurgy had jumped far ahead. Jellicoe’s memorandum showed remarkable foresight and, oddly enough, the Admiralty adopted the 13.5-inch gun while going a step further and encouraging Vickers to develop a 15-inch weapon. The Ordnance Chief of the Admiralstab recommended designing Derfflinger to accommodate a new 15-inch Krupp weapon that would be ready for use about the time the battlecruiser was launched. Tirpitz flatly refused the more powerful weapon. He agreed to 12-inch guns because the British had opted for the 13.5-inch weapon, and they were equal to the German battleship guns. But he balked at putting a weapon on a battlecruiser that was more powerful than those of the battle fleet. It is possible Tirpitz was reluctant to up-gun the battlecruisers because of the German Naval Laws. The laws fixed building rates at three battleships and one large cruiser per year. The armor suite of a battlecruiser was already approaching that of a battleship, and if he armed them with 15-inch guns they would be more powerful than the current German battleships. The Reichstag might well accuse him of building an entirely new and unauthorized ship type while disguising it as a large cruiser. Peacetime politics were the same in Berlin and London – admirals had to watch their political backsides. There was yet another possible reason for not up-gunning. Tirpitz always indicated the 11-inch was adequate to destroy the British battlecruisers, and he only went along with the 12-inch weapon because the British had forced his hand. It is just possible his purpose in clinging to the lower caliber gun was to ensure battlecruisers would be employed as fleet scouts and “cruiser killers” – not to fight in the line of battle. He may have feared the Panzerkreuzer with 12-inch or 15-inch guns would tempt the Hochseeflotte officers to use them just as they would any battleship. Whatever the reason, Tirpitz habitually designed under-gunned battlecruisers regardless of the wishes of his line officers and department heads. The British built their first six battlecruisers between 1908 and 1913 with 12-inch guns, then increased to 13.5-inch caliber in 1910. Tirpitz did not see the need to increase to the 12-inch gun until 1912 – and at that time he declined to jump ahead of the British with a 15-inch caliber for the Derfflinger Class. British shells kept getting larger, but it’s as though Tirpitz gave no consideration to the weight of shell. It’s really quite simple – the bigger shell meant more penetrating power on impact – and more weight meant a larger bursting charge on detonation. That adds up to a much greater destructive force – outside and inside the target’s hull. No one in the Kaiserliche Marine had any actual knowledge or experience with the destructive power of British 13.5-inch Lyddite shells prior to the war, and they came as something of a surprise at Dogger Bank. But German line officers had absolutely zero comprehension of the destructive force of the 15-inch shells they encountered at Jutland. It was, literally, difficult to believe the devastation wrought by a 15-inch shell weighing 1,900 pounds. A starboard side view of Derfflinger taking ammunition aboard. Inshore, abaft the stern turrets, a Sophia Class paddle tug has positioned two lighters – one with yellow-tipped armor-piercing shells, and another with brass-cased powder charges. Up forward is a Thor Class tug with two similar lighters in position. On the port side, astern, another Thor Class tug is pushing a shell lighter (diagonal model) up against the battlecruiser’s hull, while near the bow, a Helena Class paddle tug (diagonal) has positioned her two lighters and is standing by. Same scene, bow view. Note the sleek lines of the battlecruiser’s hull. German battlecruisers had been designed to withstand 12-inch gunfire, and the armor suite was supposed to keep them afloat long enough for their 11-inch guns to sink a British battlecruiser. It turned out the armor suite was capable of absorbing far more punishment than expected, but the 11-inch guns took longer than anticipated to dispose of their enemy. As the battle wore on, damage to Hipper’s battlecruisers continued to accumulate. But the real problem showed itself when the British 15-inch guns came into action. The destructive power of the British 15-inch shell was capable of overwhelming the German armor long before their 11-inch guns could inflict fatal damage to their opponent. Tirpitz’ stubborn refusal to upgrade main gun caliber ended up sending the Imperial battlecruisers into action with one arm tied behind their back. The larger 12-inch gun would have evened the odds a little, and inflicted more damage on the British battlecruisers – perhaps even sinking one or two more. Equipping Lutzow and Derfflinger with 15-inch weapons would have evened the odds considerably – and the superior gunnery skills of the Hochseeflotte would have conveyed a distinct edge. The Battle of Jutland was not lost at sea. It was lost years before -- on the drafting boards of the Reichsmarineamt. The 1st Battlecruiser Squadron, Battlecruiser Fleet, of the Grand Fleet. Top to bottom – HMS Lion (flagship) – Princess Royal, Queen Mary, and HMS Tiger – collectively known as “The Splendid Cats”. A tug is positioning two lighters against the stern of Lion, preparing to unload – paint – to keep her bright and shiny. And a motor launch is approaching her bow – possibly with Admiralty despatches. Princess Royal is “coaling ship”, and a tug has arrived alongside Tiger with fresh provisions and ship’s stores. This is what they might have looked like just days before sailing for Jutland. The battlecruiser models are courtesy of “Barroco Hispano”. The tugs, lighters, motor launches, boat booms, and mooring buoys are by "AP". The white steam tug alongside Tiger was “gifted” by “WolfZe”. The British, too, learned many lessons from Jutland, but not as many as they should have. Some “lessons” were merely excuses for poor design, poor training, or poor tactical performance. One such problem was defective ammunition. British shells tended to break up on impact – or failed to penetrate when they struck at an oblique angle. This serious issue only came to light quite by chance. Beatty had hosted a luncheon (more of a public relations event) aboard HMS Lion in August 1916. One guest was a Swedish naval attache recently attached to his embassy in Berlin. During conversation with Ernle Chatfield (Beatty’s Flag Captain) the attache explained the Germans considered British shells more the object of comic relief than fear. Of course, the matter was investigated and new shells designed. (Jellicoe had already pointed this out when he was Second Sea Lord, before the war.) But the munitions were not delivered to the fleet in sufficient quantity until April 1918. All 12,000 of them were duly loaded into magazines and never fired in anger. But – I will not go into all of the problems discovered by the British, since our subject matter is focused on the Imperial battlecruisers. Though -- there is one more point worth mentioning. A closer look at HMS Lion, name ship of the Lion Class battlecruisers. Note the exceptionally wide spacing between the aft turrets. Both Jellicoe and Beatty blamed the loss of HMS Indefatigable, Queen Mary, and Invincible on their inherently thin armor – and that was quite accurate. But recent information obtained by wreck divers found excessive numbers of bagged powder charges stacked outside the magazines in the working chambers and barbette trunks of the ship’s main gun turrets. This negligent handling of powder was discovered earlier, at Dogger Bank, when HMS Lion was nearly lost to a magazine explosion. New handling procedures were immediately put in place to prevent such a disaster. Apparently, the ammunition handling parties on Beatty’s battlecruisers reverted to their bad habits at Jutland in an attempt to increase their rate of fire. German shells caused flash fires in the turrets and barbette trunks, blowing up each of the lost battlecruisers – not to mention damaging several ships that did not explode. Current authors have decided the British armor was more than sufficient – it was actually the powder handling procedures that caused the loss of the ships. After the battle, an urgent investigation was made and the British powder handling arrangements were, indeed, found to be deficient. Older flash-proof scuttles in the magazine bulkheads were found to be less than safe, while some had actually been removed by turret crews to speed up the rate of fire. New “revolving door” scuttles were designed and hastily installed to prevent future disasters. Poor procedures may be technically true – but it rather “puts the cart before the horse”. Let me ask a simple question. If the armor was sufficient to keep the German shells out – how did the flash of a detonating shell get inside a turret or barbette trunk to start the fire? The German shells had to penetrate turret armor or barbette armor – or – fracture the armor badly enough to admit detonation flash into the interior and set off the powder. There is no other way. The British armor was NOT sufficient to keep the shells out. A closer view of HMS Tiger – the most handsome of all the British battlecruisers at Jutland. Note the armor plate “apron” designed around the three main battery turrets installed at deck level. One rather gruesome revelation resulted from the “finger-pointing” and petulant accusations of “The Jutland Scandal”. “The Scandal” was a thoroughly ugly business, and during the numerous examinations and investigations of every moment of the battle, the signaling failures of Flag-Lieutenant Ralph Seymour came to light. Needless to say, the facts did not bode well for his career. Prone to bad luck, he tried to marry a young lady who stood to inherit a large sum of money from wealthy relatives – Beatty’s step-niece, and Beatty’s wife’s money. The Admiral forthwith ordered young Ralph to direct his amorous attentions elsewhere. Seymour, completely disgraced, eventually flung himself off the cliffs at Beachy Head in 1922. And that brings us back to the original question – “Who won the Battle of Jutland?” The short answer is – nobody. But -- if anyone could be said to have been beaten – it was Beatty. He led six battlecruisers and four fast battleships against Hipper’s five Panzerkreuzer in a foolhardy dash without coordinating the movements of his battleships. Hipper sank two battlecruisers and thoroughly mauled the other four. Only the timely arrival of the fast battleships saved Beatty from utter destruction. Scheer could not possibly have won the battle, so it seems difficult to “lose” something you never intended – or attempted -- to win. Finally – considering the poor visibility, lack of sighting reports, and shells that didn’t penetrate – Jellicoe did not actually “win” the battle. But he did manage to avoid losing it – and that was vastly more important. The day after the battle, a New York City newspaper columnist summed-up the battle rather neatly…...”The German Fleet has assaulted its jailer – but it is still in jail.” A detail view of SMS Derfflinger taking ammunition aboard. The battlecruiser model by “Barroco Hispano” is, of course, a thing of beauty – but I mainly wanted to show a close-up of the amazing detail @AP has put into his tugboats and lighters. Each shell lighter has the projectiles laid out in neat rows, with each shell individually crafted. And each powder lighter has four rows of clearly visible brass cartridge cases. And if you look behind the Helena Class paddle tug, he has even made a powder lighter with the hatch covers still battened-down. This is the kind of detail that really brings a model to life. Vice-Admiral John Rushworth Jellicoe was promoted to 1st Sea Lord in November 1916. In essence, he was “kicked upstairs” to the Admiralty -- promoted so the fleet could be turned over to a more aggressive man. Jellicoe’s prudent handling of the Grand Fleet was hardly heroic, but it was sure and certain. And it preserved British naval supremacy for another generation. The failure to deliver a “second Trafalgar” was blamed on Jellicoe – determined mostly on the basis of criticism in a letter-writing campaign aimed at Jellicoe’s supposed “timidity”. The letter writer, Vice-Admiral David Beatty was appointed in his place as C.-in-C. of the Grand Fleet. Jellicoe was rudely sacked from the Admiralty in January 1918 by Lloyd George’s administration for his failure to find a “miracle cure” for German U-boat attacks on British merchant shipping. There was, in fact, hardly any way to prevent submarine attacks in those days – though a “convoy system” seemed to intimidate U-Boat commanders. But the simple fact is -- Lloyd George simply needed a scapegoat to cover his own political backside. (Despite whatever good he may have accomplished -- in politics, Lloyd George was a creature not to be trusted.) Jellicoe was created Viscount Jellicoe of Scapa Flow in March 1918, and promoted Admiral Of The Fleet in April 1919. He was appointed Governor-General of New Zealand in 1920 and upon his return to England was created 1st Earl Jellicoe (hereditary) and Viscount Brocas of Southampton in 1925. Though lavished with honors, he never again served in a military capacity. There was a great deal of intrigue and back-stabbing over the Battle of Jutland – mostly Beatty trying to shift the blame for his poor performance onto Jellicoe’s shoulders. Each admiral had a number of their own supporters and the situation elicited a great many letters in the newspapers – and even involved deliberate alterations to the official Admiralty reports of the battle (ordered by Beatty while serving as First Sea Lord). I suggest you Google “The Jutland Scandal” for full details – it’s far too complicated to cover here. Admiral Of The Fleet, Lord John Rushworth Jellicoe, died aged 75, at his London home in 1935 and was buried with full military honors in St. Paul’s Cathedral. Vice-Admiral Sir David Richard Beatty was appointed to command of the Grand Fleet in November 1916, but never got another crack at the High Sea Fleet. Ironically, the “Hell for leather” battlecruiser admiral immediately adopted the cautious operational strategy of his predecessor (Jellicoe) and never fought a fleet engagement on his own. (The man couldn’t coordinate ten ships at Jutland – what would he have done with nearly 200?) Beatty brought out the entire Grand Fleet in November 1918 to escort the Hochseeflotte to internment in Scapa Flow. (But it should be noted he guarded what he considered “his” victory like a miser’s hoard. He could have invited both Admirals Fisher and Jellicoe aboard Queen Elizabeth to attend the ceremonies – but he did not.) He was promoted full Admiral in January 1919, and to Admiral Of The Fleet in May 1919. In October 1919 he was created 1st Earl Beatty, Viscount Borodale, and Baron Beatty of the North Sea and Brooksby. In November 1919 he was appointed First Sea Lord of the Admiralty and served in that capacity until his retirement in 1927. His main goal as a peacetime First Sea Lord seems to have been trying to prevent the United States from supplanting Britain as the foremost seapower – though that “claim to fame” seems dubious. He was considered for the post of Governor-General of Canada in 1926, but Colonial Secretary Leo Amery rejected the notion...”no manners and an impossible American wife”. (In 1901, Beatty had married Ethel Tree – the wealthy heiress to Chicago’s Marshall Field Department stores.) Admiral Of The Fleet, Sir David Richard Beatty died in March 1936 and was interred in St. Paul’s Cathedral. Vizeadmiral Reinhard Scheer was lauded as a hero upon his return to Wilhelmshaven and was decorated by the Kaiser with Germany’s highest military honor -- the Pour le Merite (sometimes called “The Blue Max”). He remained in command of the Hochseeflotte and made several sorties into the North Sea to attack convoys and shipping concentrations, but to little effect. He could not afford to risk his small fleet – so there was little chance of a “safe” operation producing impressive results. In August 1918, Scheer was promoted to full Admiral and appointed Chief of Naval Staff to replace an ailing Admiral Holtzendorff. Scheer lobbied heavily for unrestricted submarine warfare because he saw little opportunity for the Hochseeflotte to achieve any significant results. He retired from the navy after the war and wrote his memoirs in 1919, but his life after the war was not pleasant. An insane intruder broke into his home in 1920 and murdered his wife, his maid, and injured his daughter, before committing suicide in the cellar. Scheer withdrew into solitude and wrote an autobiography published in 1925. In 1928 Scheer accepted an invitation from Earl Jellicoe to visit England, but died aged 65 before he could make the journey. He is buried in the municipal cemetery in Weimar. The inscription on the stone reads “Here rests Admiral Reinhard Scheer” with the single word “Skagerrak” carved below. The last warship built by the Reichsmarine of the Weimar Republic was the pocket-battleship Admiral Scheer launched in 1933. As a matter of some interest: Books and articles about the battle began to appear as early as late 1916 – mostly written by British or American authors – all in English – and all based on the British accounts of the action. None of them paid very much (if any) attention to the German literature or their available official records. Up until the 1970’s, it was not unusual to see Admiral Scheer referred to as “von Scheer”. This is a simple, but obvious, proof of how little fact actually appeared in books written in the first 50 years after the battle. Reinhard Scheer was born to a middle-class family in lower Saxony – certainly not the nobility. Upon his return from Jutland, Kaiser Wilhelm did offer to raise him to the Imperial nobility. But, for reasons known only to him, Scheer declined the offer and never received the much-coveted “von” before his name. Vizeadmiral Franz Ritter von Hipper also returned to a hero’s welcome – and justly so. His performance at Jutland was nothing short of magnificent. On 5 June 1916, for his conduct in the battle, Hipper received the Pour le Merite from the Kaiser’s own hand and a kiss on both cheeks. He was also awarded the Royal Bavarian Military Order Of Max Joseph, Commander’s Cross, by His Majesty, King Ludwig III of Bavaria – including elevation to Bavarian nobility and the title “Ritter” (knight). He was presented with several other awards, including the Royal Saxon Order of Albrecht, and all three Hanseatic League Crosses from Lubeck, Bremen, and Hamburg. On 12 August 1918, he was promoted full Admiral and appointed to command the Hochseeflotte -- but his time in command was short and unpleasant. The war was all but lost and within weeks, the crews of the Hochseeflotte began to demonstrate mutinous tendencies. By 29 October several battleship crews had mutinied, so the fleet was dispersed to various ports. On 9 November, Hipper personally hauled down his flag and departed the battleship Baden. Just twelve days later, on 21 November 1918, Hipper watched as his cherished battlecruisers led the Hochseeflotte to sea one last time – headed for internment at Scapa Flow as part of the Armistice agreement. With no fleet to command, there would be no more battles to fight, and Hipper retired in December 1918 after 37 years of service at sea. For the next year, he hid from the radical elements of the 1918-1919 revolutionaries that overturned the monarchy, then settled in a comfortable home in Altona, near Hamburg. Unlike Scheer, Hipper never wrote his memoirs or anything concerning his service during the war – he was confident the heroism of his men and battlecruisers spoke for him. Of the four senior admirals (on both sides) present at Jutland, Hipper made no mistakes that day – and was the only one to come away with his reputation burnished. In May 1932, Admiral Franz Ritter von Hipper died and was buried in his hometown of Weilheim. The Kriegsmarine later named their Hipper Class heavy cruisers after him. Upon hearing of Hipper's death, David Beatty said..."I am very sorry. One would like to express one's regrets for the passing of a gallant officer and a great sailor.” It would, no doubt, have pleased Hipper, and certainly – after the rough handling he had given Beatty – it would have made the old Bavarian buccaneer laugh. Elements of the German III Battle Squadron steaming past Heligoland Island. Painting by Claus Bergen. NEXT TIME…… THE THIRD SISTER MANY THANKS to @Barroco Hispano for his beautiful warship models. SPECIAL THANKS to my friend and partner, @AP, for his talents, meticulous models, colorful imagination, and extreme dedication. If you enjoyed anything – please punch the “like” button so WE will know. A comment would be even more informative. Comments and critiques requested and gratefully accepted. All questions answered promptly to the best of our ability. THANK YOU for your visit! You may wish to visit these CJ’s as well…… SERIES I: IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: WILHELMSHAVEN SERIES II: IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: CUXHAVEN Appearing – Work In Publication SERIES III: IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: BREMERHAVEN Appearing -- ??? And please feel free to drop in at… THE SIMTROPOLIS SHIPYARD https://community.simtropolis.com/forums/topic/761469-simtropolis-shipyard/?tab=comments#comment-1766496